JOHN BULL.
An old song, made by an aged old pate, Of an old worshipful gentleman who had a great estate, That kept a brave old house at a bountiful rate, And an old porter to relieve the poor at his gate.
With an old study fill'd full of learned old books, With an old reverend chaplain, you might know him by hislooks, With an old buttery-hatch worn quite off the hooks, And an old kitchen that maintained half-a-dozen old cooks. Like an old courtier, etc.--Old Song.
THERE is no species of humor in which the English more excel than thatwhich consists in caricaturing and giving ludicrous appellations ornicknames. In this way they have whimsically designated, not merelyindividuals, but nations, and in their fondness for pushing a joke theyhave not spared even themselves. One would think that in personifyingitself a nation would be apt to picture something grand, heroic, andimposing; but it is characteristic of the peculiar humor of the English,and of their love for what is blunt, comic, and familiar, that they haveembodied their national oddities in the figure of a sturdy, corpulentold fellow with a three-cornered hat, red waistcoat, leather breeches,and stout oaken cudgel. Thus they have taken a singular delight inexhibiting their most private foibles in a laughable point of view, andhave been so successful in their delineations that there is scarcelya being in actual existence more absolutely present to the public mindthan that eccentric personage, John Bull.
Perhaps the continual contemplation of the character thus drawn of themhas contributed to fix it upon the nation, and thus to give realityto what at first may have been painted in a great measure from theimagination. Men are apt to acquire peculiarities that are continuallyascribed to them. The common orders of English seem wonderfullycaptivated with the beau ideal which they have formed of John Bull, andendeavor to act up to the broad caricature that is perpetually beforetheir eyes. Unluckily, they sometimes make their boasted Bullism anapology for their prejudice or grossness; and this I have especiallynoticed among those truly homebred and genuine sons of the soil who havenever migrated beyond the sound of Bow bells. If one of these shouldbe a little uncouth in speech and apt to utter impertinent truths, heconfesses that he is a real John Bull and always speaks his mind. If henow and then flies into an unreasonable burst of passion about trifles,he observes that John Bull is a choleric old blade, but then his passionis over in a moment and he bears no malice. If he betrays a coarsenessof taste and an insensibility to foreign refinements, he thanks Heavenfor his ignorance--he is a plain John Bull and has no relish forfrippery and knick-knacks. His very proneness to be gulled by strangersand to pay extravagantly for absurdities is excused under the plea ofmunificence, for John is always more generous than wise.
Thus, under the name of John Bull he will contrive to argue every faultinto a merit, and will frankly convict himself of being the honestestfellow in existence.
However little, therefore, the character may have suited in the firstinstance, it has gradually adapted itself to the nation, or rather theyhave adapted themselves to each other; and a stranger who wishes tostudy English peculiarities may gather much valuable information fromthe innumerable portraits of John Bull as exhibited in the windowsof the caricature-shops. Still, however, he is one of those fertilehumorists that are continually throwing out new portraits and presentingdifferent aspects from different points of view; and, often as he hasbeen described, I cannot resist the temptation to give a slight sketchof him such as he has met my eye.
John Bull, to all appearance, is a plain, downright, matter-of-factfellow, with much less of poetry about him than rich prose. There islittle of romance in his nature, but a vast deal of strong naturalfeeling. He excels in humor more than in wit; is jolly rather than gay;melancholy rather than morose; can easily be moved to a sudden tear orsurprised into a broad laugh; but he loathes sentiment and has no turnfor light pleasantry. He is a boon companion, if you allow him in tohave his humor and to talk about himself; and he will stand by a friendin a quarrel with life and purse, however soundly he may be cudgelled.
In this last respect, to tell the truth, he has a propensity to besomewhat too ready. He is a busy-minded personage, who thinks not merelyfor himself and family, but for all the country round, and is mostgenerously disposed to be everybody's champion. He is continuallyvolunteering his services to settle his neighbor's affairs, and takesit in great dudgeon if they engage in any matter of consequence withoutasking his advice, though he seldom engages in any friendly office ofthe kind without finishing by getting into a squabble with all parties,and then railing bitterly at their ingratitude. He unluckily tooklessons in his youth in the noble science of defence, and havingaccomplished himself in the use of his limbs and his weapons and becomea perfect master at boxing and cudgel-play, he has had a troublesomelife of it ever since. He cannot hear of a quarrel between the mostdistant of his neighbors but he begins incontinently to fumble with thehead of his cudgel, and consider whether his interest or honor does notrequire that he should meddle in the broil. Indeed, he has extended hisrelations of pride and policy so completely over the whole countrythat no event can take place without infringing some of his finely-spunrights and dignities. Couched in his little domain, with thesefilaments stretching forth in every direction, he is like some choleric,bottle-bellied old spider who has woven his web over a whole chamber,so that a fly cannot buzz nor a breeze blow without startling his reposeand causing him to sally forth wrathfully from his den.
Though really a good-hearted, good-tempered old fellow at bottom, yet heis singularly fond of being in the midst of contention. It is one ofhis peculiarities, however, that he only relishes the beginning of anaffray; he always goes into a fight with alacrity, but comes out ofit grumbling even when victorious; and though no one fights with moreobstinacy to carry a contested point, yet when the battle is over and hecomes to the reconciliation he is so much taken up with the mere shakingof hands that he is apt to let his antagonist pocket all that they havebeen quarrelling about. It is not, therefore, fighting that he ought somuch to be on his guard against as making friends. It is difficult tocudgel him out of a farthing; but put him in a good humor and you maybargain him out of all the money in his pocket. He is like a stout shipwhich will weather the roughest storm uninjured, but roll its mastsoverboard in the succeeding calm.
He is a little fond of playing the magnifico abroad, of pulling outa long purse, flinging his money bravely about at boxing-matches,horse-races, cock-fights, and carrying a high head among "gentlemen ofthe fancy:" but immediately after one of these fits of extravagance hewill be taken with violent qualms of economy; stop short at the mosttrivial expenditure; talk desperately of being ruined and brought uponthe parish; and in such moods will not pay the smallest tradesman'sbill without violent altercation. He is, in fact, the most punctualand discontented paymaster in the world, drawing his coin out of hisbreeches pocket with infinite reluctance, paying to the uttermostfarthing, but accompanying every guinea with a growl.
With all his talk of economy, however, he is a bountiful provider anda hospitable housekeeper. His economy is of a whimsical kind, its chiefobject being to devise how he may afford to be extravagant; for he willbegrudge himself a beefsteak and pint of port one day that he may roastan ox whole, broach a hogshead of ale, and treat all his neighbors onthe next.
His domestic establishment is enormously expensive, not so much fromany great outward parade as from the great consumption of solid beefand pudding, the vast number of followers he feeds and clothes, and hissingular disposition to pay hugely for small services. He is a mostkind and indulgent master, and, provided his servants humor hispeculiarities, flatter his vanity a little now and then, and donot peculate grossly on him before his face they may manage him toperfection. Everything that lives on him seems to thrive and grow fat.His house-servants are well paid and pampered and have little to do. Hishorses are sleek and lazy and prance slowly before his state carriage;and his house-dogs sleep quietly about the door and will hardly bark ata h
ousebreaker.
His family mansion is an old castellated manor-house, gray with age, andof a most venerable though weather-beaten appearance. It has been builtupon no regular plan, but is a vast accumulation of parts erectedin various tastes and ages. The centre bears evident traces of Saxonarchitecture, and is as solid as ponderous stone and old English oakcan make it. Like all the relics of that style, it is full of obscurepassages, intricate mazes, and dusty chambers, and, though these havebeen partially lighted up in modern days, yet there are many placeswhere you must still grope in the dark. Additions have been made to theoriginal edifice from time to time, and great alterations have takenplace; towers and battlements have been erected during wars and tumults:wings built in time of peace; and out-houses, lodges, and offices run upaccording to the whim or convenience of different generations, until ithas become one of the most spacious, rambling tenements imaginable. Anentire wing is taken up with the family chapel, a reverend pile thatmust have been exceedingly sumptuous, and, indeed, in spite of havingbeen altered and simplified at various periods, has still a look ofsolemn religious pomp. Its walls within are storied with the monumentsof John's ancestors, and it is snugly fitted up with soft cushions andwell-lined chairs, where such of his family as are inclined to churchservices may doze comfortably in the discharge of their duties.
To keep up this chapel has cost John much money; but he is staunch inhis religion and piqued in his zeal, from the circumstance that manydissenting chapels have been erected in his vicinity, and several of hisneighbors, with whom he has had quarrels, are strong papists.
To do the duties of the chapel he maintains, at a large expense, a piousand portly family chaplain. He is a most learned and decorous personageand a truly well-bred Christian, who always backs the old gentleman inhis opinions, winks discreetly at his little peccadilloes, rebukes thechildren when refractory, and is of great use in exhorting the tenantsto read their Bibles, say their prayers, and, above all, to pay theirrents punctually and without grumbling.
The family apartments are in a very antiquated taste, somewhat heavy andoften inconvenient, but full of the solemn magnificence of former times,fitted up with rich though faded tapestry, unwieldy furniture, andloads of massy, gorgeous old plate. The vast fireplaces, ample kitchens,extensive cellars, and sumptuous banqueting-halls all speak of theroaring hospitality of days of yore, of which the modern festivity atthe manor-house is but a shadow. There are, however, complete suites ofrooms apparently deserted and time-worn, and towers and turrets thatare tottering to decay, so that in high winds there is danger of theirtumbling about the ears of the household.
John has frequently been advised to have the old edifice thoroughlyoverhauled, and to have some of the useless parts pulled down, and theothers strengthened with their materials; but the old gentleman alwaysgrows testy on this subject. He swears the house is an excellent house;that it is tight and weather-proof, and not to be shaken by tempests;that it has stood for several hundred years, and therefore is not likelyto tumble down now; that as to its being inconvenient, his family isaccustomed to the inconveniences and would not be comfortable withoutthem; that as to its unwieldy size and irregular construction, theseresult from its being the growth of centuries and being improved by thewisdom of every generation; that an old family, like his, requiresa large house to dwell in; new, upstart families may live in moderncottages and snug boxes; but an old English family should inhabit anold English manor-house. If you point out any part of the buildingas superfluous, he insists that it is material to the strength ordecoration of the rest and the harmony of the whole, and swears that theparts are so built into each other that if you pull down one, you runthe risk of having the whole about your ears.
The secret of the matter is, that John has a great disposition toprotect and patronize. He thinks it indispensable to the dignity of anancient and honorable family to be bounteous in its appointments andto be eaten up by dependents; and so, partly from pride and partlyfrom kind-heartedness, he makes it a rule always to give shelter andmaintenance to his superannuated servants.
The consequence is, that, like many other venerable familyestablishments, his manor is incumbered by old retainers whom he cannotturn off, and an old style which he cannot lay down. His mansion is likea great hospital of invalids, and, with all its magnitude, is not a whittoo large for its inhabitants. Not a nook or corner but is of use inhousing some useless personage. Groups of veteran beef-eaters, goutypensioners, and retired heroes of the buttery and the larder are seenlolling about its ways, crawling over its lawns, dozing under its tree,or sunning themselves upon the benches at its doors. Every office andout-house is garrisoned by these supernumeraries and their families;for they are amazingly prolific, and when they die off are sure to leaveJohn a legacy of hungry mouths to be provided for. A mattock cannot bestruck against the most mouldering tumble-down tower but out pops, fromsome cranny or loophole, the gray pate of some superannuated hanger-on,who has lived at John's expense all his life, and makes the mostgrievous outcry at their pulling down the roof from over the head ofa worn-out servant of the family. This is an appeal that John's honestheart never can withstand; so that a man who has faithfully eaten hisbeef and pudding all his life is sure to be rewarded with a pipe andtankard in his old days.
A great part of his park also is turned into paddocks, where hisbroken-down chargers are turned loose to graze undisturbed for theremainder of their existences--a worthy example of grateful recollectionwhich, if some of his neighbors were to imitate, would not be to theirdiscredit. Indeed, it is one of his great pleasures to point out theseold steeds to his visitors, to dwell on their good qualities, extoltheir past services, and boast, with some little vain-glory, of theperilous adventures and hardy exploits through which they have carriedhim.
He is given, however, to indulge his veneration for family usages andfamily encumbrances to a whimsical extent. His manor is infested bygangs of gypsies; yet he will not suffer them to be driven off, becausethey have infested the place time out of mind and been regular poachersupon every generation of the family. He will scarcely permit a drybranch to be lopped from the great trees that surround the house, lestit should molest the rooks that have bred there for centuries. Owls havetaken possession of the dovecote, but they are hereditary owls and mustnot be disturbed. Swallows have nearly choked up every chimney withtheir nests; martins build in every frieze and cornice; crows flutterabout the towers and perch on every weather-cock; and old gray-headedrats may be seen in every quarter of the house, running in and out oftheir holes undauntedly in broad daylight. In short, John has such areverence for everything that has been long in the family that he willnot hear even of abuses being reformed, because they are good old familyabuses.
All these whims and habits have concurred woefully to drain the oldgentleman's purse; and as he prides himself on punctuality in moneymatters and wishes to maintain his credit in the neighborhood, they havecaused him great perplexity in meeting his engagements. This, too,has been increased by the altercations and heart-burnings which arecontinually taking place in his family. His children have been broughtup to different callings and are of different ways of thinking; and asthey have always been allowed to speak their minds freely, they do notfail to exercise the privilege most clamorously in the present postureof his affairs. Some stand up for the honor of the race, and are clearthat the old establishment should be kept up in all its state, whatevermay be the cost; others, who are more prudent and considerate, entreatthe old gentleman to retrench his expenses and to put his whole systemof housekeeping on a more moderate footing. He has, indeed, at times,seemed inclined to listen to their opinions, but their wholesome advicehas been completely defeated by the obstreperous conduct of one of hissons. This is a noisy, rattle-pated fellow, of rather low habits, whoneglects his business to frequent ale-houses--is the orator of villageclubs and a complete oracle among the poorest of his father'stenants. No sooner does he hear any of his brothers mention reform orretrenchment than up he jumps, takes th
e words out of their mouths, androars out for an overturn. When his tongue is once going nothingcan stop it. He rants about the room; hectors the old man about hisspendthrift practices; ridicules his tastes and pursuits; insists thathe shall turn the old servants out of doors, give the broken-down horsesto the hounds, send the fat chaplain packing, and take a field-preacherin his place; nay, that the whole family mansion shall be levelled withthe ground, and a plain one of brick and mortar built in its place. Herails at every social entertainment and family festivity, and skulksaway growling to the ale-house whenever an equipage drives up to thedoor. Though constantly complaining of the emptiness of his purse,yet he scruples not to spend all his pocket-money in these tavernconvocations, and even runs up scores for the liquor over which hepreaches about his father's extravagance.
It may readily be imagined how little such thwarting agrees with the oldcavalier's fiery temperament. He has become so irritable from repeatedcrossings that the mere mention of retrenchment or reform is a signalfor a brawl between him and the tavern oracle. As the latter is toosturdy and refractory for paternal discipline, having grown out of allfear of the cudgel, they have frequent scenes of wordy warfare, which attimes run so high that John is fain to call in the aid of his son Tom,an officer who has served abroad, but is at present living at home onhalf-pay. This last is sure to stand by the old gentleman, right orwrong, likes nothing so much as a rocketing, roistering life, and isready at a wink or nod to out sabre and flourish it over the orator'shead if he dares to array himself against parental authority.
These family dissensions, as usual, have got abroad, and are rare foodfor scandal in John's neighborhood. People begin to look wise and shaketheir heads whenever his affairs are mentioned. They all "hope thatmatters are not so bad with him as represented; but when a man'sown children begin to rail at his extravagance, things must be badlymanaged. They understand he is mortgaged over head and ears and iscontinually dabbling with money-lenders. He is certainly an open-handedold gentleman, but they fear he has lived too fast; indeed, they neverknew any good come of this fondness for hunting, racing revelling, andprize-fighting. In short, Mr. Bull's estate is a very fine one and hasbeen in the family a long while, but, for all that, they have known manyfiner estates come to the hammer."
What is worst of all, is the effect which these pecuniary embarrassmentsand domestic feuds have had on the poor man himself. Instead of thatjolly round corporation and smug rosy face which he used to present, hehas of late become as shrivelled and shrunk as a frost-bitten apple.His scarlet gold-laced waistcoat, which bellied out so bravely in thoseprosperous days when he sailed before the wind, now hangs loosely abouthim like a mainsail in a calm. His leather breeches are all in folds andwrinkles, and apparently have much ado to hold up the boots that yawn onboth sides of his once sturdy legs.
Instead of strutting about as formerly with his three-cornered hat onone side, flourishing his cudgel, and bringing it down every moment witha hearty thump upon the ground, looking every one sturdily in the face,and trolling out a stave of a catch or a drinking-song, he now goesabout whistling thoughtfully to himself, with his head drooping down,his cudgel tucked under his arm, and his hands thrust to the bottom ofhis breeches pockets, which are evidently empty.
Such is the plight of honest John Bull at present, yet for all this theold fellow's spirit is as tall and as gallant as ever. If you drop theleast expression of sympathy or concern, he takes fire in an instant;swears that he is the richest and stoutest fellow in the country; talksof laying out large sums to adorn his house or buy another estate; andwith a valiant swagger and grasping of his cudgel longs exceedingly tohave another bout at quarter-staff.
Though there may be something rather whimsical in all this, yet Iconfess I cannot look upon John's situation without strong feelingsof interest. With all his odd humors and obstinate prejudices he is asterling-hearted old blade. He may not be so wonderfully fine a fellowas he thinks himself, but he is at least twice as good as his neighborsrepresent him. His virtues are all his own--all plain, homebred, andunaffected. His very faults smack of the raciness of his good qualities.His extravagance savors of his generosity, his quarrelsomeness of hiscourage, his credulity of his open faith, his vanity of his pride, andhis bluntness of his sincerity. They are all the redundancies of a richand liberal character. He is like his own oak, rough without, but soundand solid within; whose bark abounds with excrescences in proportion tothe growth and grandeur of the timber; and whose branches make a fearfulgroaning and murmuring in the least storm from their very magnitude andluxuriance. There is something, too, in the appearance of his old familymansion that is extremely poetical and picturesque; and as long as itcan be rendered comfortably habitable I should almost tremble to see itmeddled with during the present conflict of tastes and opinions. Some ofhis advisers are no doubt good architects that might be of service; butmany, I fear, are mere levellers, who, when they had once got to workwith their mattocks on this venerable edifice, would never stop untilthey had brought it to the ground, and perhaps buried themselves amongthe ruins. All that I wish is, that John's present troubles may teachhim more prudence in future--that he may cease to distress his mindabout other people's affairs; that he may give up the fruitless attemptto promote the good of his neighbors and the peace and happiness ofthe world, by dint of the cudgel; that he may remain quietly at home;gradually get his house into repair; cultivate his rich estate accordingto his fancy; husband his income--if he thinks proper; bring his unrulychildren into order--if he can; renew the jovial scenes of ancientprosperity; and long enjoy on his paternal lands a green, an honorable,and a merry old age.
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